Night Light
by Tex-chan
Summary: Horror movies and dark nights don’t mix, but Major Armstrong learns any fear can be conquered with a little help from a friend.


_**Summary:**__ Horror movies and dark nights don't mix, but Major Armstrong learns any fear can be conquered with a little help from a friend._

_**Author's Note:**__ I'll admit, up front, that this is a rather silly little story. I'm not sure there is much point to it, but I think it might provide a fun read. At least, I hope that's the case. I wrote this in response to a fanfic challenge for "Armstrong" and "Vampire"._

_**Legal Stuff:**__ This story is intended to express one fan's genuine appreciation for Full Metal Alchemist and its characters. It is just for fun and not for profit. If you have rights in the anime described here and find the posting of this fanfiction offensive or harmful, please contact me, and I will be happy to remove it._

**Night Light**

"I'm just saying, Colonel. I think everyone would benefit from this," Major Alex Louis Armstrong stated.

Colonel Roy Mustang, head of Eastern Command, lay on his bed and stared up through the darkness above him. He shifted around so that he could lie with his hands behind his head, and, slowly, counted to ten under his breath.

This trip had been a disaster from the beginning, and Roy was in a bad mood. A very bad mood.

He hadn't wanted to come here, but Central had insisted it was a mission that required his personal attention. Which was why he was stuck in this Podunk hotel, in this dust ball of a town located somewhere between Nowhere and Nothing, instead of back at home, in his own, warm, comfortable bed.

That, alone, was bad enough, and more than enough to put Roy into a bad mood. But when you added in the fact that there was only one hotel in this crappy, little town … and, then, figured in that the hotel only had two vacant rooms, which forced Roy into sharing close quarters with his traveling companions -- Edward and Alphonse Elric and Major Armstrong … well, you had moved on to something way, way beyond bad. You had entered the realm of so unbelievably, unbearably bad that it would be funny. If this situation hadn't been part of Roy's personal version of hell, he figured he would be peeing his pants from laughing so hard. And, yet, this was Roy's little hell, and, as such, he could find no humor in the situation.

"Colonel? Are you awake? Did you hear me?" Armstrong asked.

The muscular major's voice seemed to float out of the darkness somewhere off to Roy's left.

'Am I awake. Funny, very funny,' Roy thought.

How could he be anything other than irrevocably and painfully awake? The room was small and cramped. It would have been small and cramped if he was the only person occupying it. When you tossed in Alphonse's metal bulk and Major Armstrong's wall of manly muscle, you went from "cramped" to …

Actually, now that he thought about it, Roy wasn't sure what you ended up with, other than a situation so bad there weren't enough adjectives in the world to describe it. But you could start from the position of two bodies using up all the oxygen in this teeny, tiny space and move right on down the line to the rest of the horrors from there. Once you reached the bottom of the pits of despair, then, maybe, just maybe, you would be halfway to figuring out exactly how horrid this whole situation was.

Edward uttered a ceiling-shaking snore -- just one of many indescribable, eardrum-shattering sounds that had escaped from him since he had dropped off to sleep a bit over an hour ago. Well, it was only fair that someone should be able to sleep, although Roy couldn't help but hate Edward, just a little. It seemed so unfair that the half-metallic pipsqueak should be the only one to get a good night's sleep in this dump.

Roy wasn't sure if Alphonse needed to sleep, but the boy was being awfully quiet. Al hadn't uttered so much as a peep in the last hour or so, leading Roy to believe he was engaging in whatever passed for a peaceful night's rest when you were a disembodied soul bound to a hulking suit of armor. A series of creaking squeaks issued from that side of the room, somewhere in the close vicinity of the bed Edward had claimed upon their arrival. The sound of metal grating and grinding against metal was enough to make Roy's teeth itch, and not in a good way.

'Note to self: Buy oil for that damn armor,' Roy thought.

He reached ten, ending his slow countdown, and, finding he was still too angry to trust himself to speak, he started again -- counting down from one, very slowly.

Roy thought about Lieutenant Hawkeye, enjoying a room all to herself just two doors down the hall, and ground his teeth in irritation and anger. When they got back, he would have to think up a fitting punishment for her. Maybe handling all the paperwork that crossed his desk for the next two months. Or, KP duty. Or … something. They had three days left on this assignment, with at least a full day of travel following that. Roy was confident he could think up a fitting punishment in the time given to him.

"Colonel, Colonel … Perhaps you did not hear me? It's not like an Armstrong to complain, but I must insist you address this matter."

Major Armstrong's voice, once again, seemed to float out of the darkness to Roy's left.

Roy sighed. So, ignoring the Major wasn't going to cut it -- no matter how much he wished otherwise.

Roy took a couple of deep breaths, letting them out slowly in an effort to bring his anger under control.

"Why did you even go, anyhow?" he asked, once he felt confident he could control his voice.

"They are just children, Colonel. Someone has to be responsible for them. Seeing something like that, without supervision, could damage them forever."

Roy rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief as Edward uttered another room-shaking, eardrum-busting snore.

"Yeah," he muttered under his breath, "I can see they're traumatized."

"Colonel, please," Armstrong tried again. "You must address this issue. It can't go ignored. For the sake of the children."

Roy cursed under his breath.

"Fine," he replied, pulling on his gloves.

He paused for a moment or two, and, then, snapped his fingers. In response, a flash of light jerked the room from the black of night into the glare of mid-day. It was only for a second, and, once the flare died down, a single flame was left, burning in the lamp by the door. It was just enough to cast a warm, comforting, yellow glow throughout the room.

Roy glared at Major Armstrong for a few long seconds. With a snort of irritation, he flipped over onto his side, facing the wall, his back to the Major. He pulled his pillow over his head to block out the light. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would suffocate before morning so that he didn't have to deal with any more of this crap.

It was quiet for several minutes.

"Thank you, Colonel," Major Armstrong said.

His tone was quiet and subdued, barely loud enough to cross the small space of room between them.

"No more horror movies, Major. And, especially, none with vampires in them. That's an order. Understand?" Roy said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Yes, Colonel," Armstrong replied.

**End**


End file.
